


When the Day Breaks

by BarracudaHeart



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Broken Engagement, Gen, Inspired by a Movie, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:14:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart/pseuds/BarracudaHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sadie's morning routine is thrown for a loop after witnessing the death of a stranger. In order to get back on track, it might take advice, and it might take time. It might take minutes, or it might take days. Life goes on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When the Day Breaks

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short one chapter piece I wrote based loosely on what is probably one of my favorite animated short films ever 'When the Day Breaks'. I highly suggest looking it up on youtube. This is obviously an AU, probably taking place in the 1970s or 80s, if it really matters, haha. This story was kind of a quick write up, so its a little clunky, but I hope you like it!

_Drip Drip Drip_

Mr. Maheswaran was more than certain he would be driven crazy by the leaky faucet in his kitchen, as he sat there, taking another bite of toast and leafing through the morning paper. Another local crisis headlining the front of it, he read intently about a robbery occuring five miles away, while he took a sip of juice. Nobody he knew was hurt, thank goodness, just random strangers. Too bad for them, but hey, it had to happen to somebody he supposed.

His wife, Priyanka, was grabbing her doctor's coat, and heading for the door, but not before leaning to kiss her husband goodbye, and called out for their daughter to head to the car so she could take her to school.

The roar of the car faded away as it headed down the road.

When the house was empty, the echoing of the drip seemed only the tiniest bit louder. Thank goodness Mr. Maheswaran worked at night, so he could busy himself with other things, and avoid thinking about the leaky faucet.

Leaving his toast crust on the table, juice half finished, he got up, and looked at the grocery list on the counter. Taking inventory of their fridge and cupboards, he decided this would just be a quick run; for oranges, crackers, soup mix, apple juice, and to treat himself, a cup of tea from the small shop on the corner by the local market that he'd always wanted to go into, but never had the time.

The tea shop was only about a ten minute walk, and he would be passing it first, so he decided he would have tea first, then deal with groceries.

The faucet was still dripping when he left.

The little shop was lovely, but was clearly running slow on business. It was quiet when Mr. Maheswaran went in, and ordered a hot chai. The owner, a sullen young man with body modifications (Mr. Maheswaran wouldn't say it out loud, but he thought they were hideous!), greeted him with a sullen and sleepy 'good morning', and was efficient in serving him his drink, even walking over to the table where the man had sat. And once he had served the tea, he was back to work behind the counter, fixing tea for future orders, and laying out pastries to be bought.

Once his cup of tea was finished, finding it wonderful, Mr. Maheswaran thanked the owner, tipped him out of gratuity, and headed out the door, the little bell ringing as he opened it, and headed down the street to the market, the early morning sun starting to shine through the clouds.

* * *

_Oh when the day breaks in two_

_And the sun comes slippin' through_

_It's mornin' and I'm singing_

_'Cause everything's beginning_

_The skies are blue_

_When the day breaks_

_And the moon makes_

_His last goodbye_

_I rise and shine_

_The world is fine_

_I'm giddy, I'm pretty, the city is mine!_

Sadie was glad she never ended up selling her family's old phonograph, having collected an impressive amounts of records over the years, various music genres and decided today was going to be an 'Unmarked 1940s Vinyl' day while she made breakfast. She eagerly sliced fruit for her cereal, kiwis, apples, and bananas, just like she did every morning when it was a beautiful day like today. Cornflakes with fruit every morning might have not sounded like an interesting breakfast to most people, but Sadie liked it just fine. It was simple, and she enjoyed things that were simple.

While she sang along to the music, she stood atop her chair, feeling a little more giddy than usual. This sort of music just put her in the most wonderful mood! Hopping off the chair, with a skip in her step, she went over to her fridge, and pulled the door open to grab the milk for her cereal. When she popped open the carton, a sour stench rose from it, and she immediately knew this was unacceptable to drink, and tossed it in the garbage. She groaned as she saw there wasn't a second carton like she'd assumed, and realized that she'd either have to run to the market around the corner, or eat her cereal dry, and her tea milk-less.

Deciding it was worth it to go to the market, to at least enjoy the lovely morning, Sadie grabbed her coat, and headed out, bouncing slightly down the staircase of her apartment complex, giving a friendly hello to the random tenants she passed. She didn't exactly know anyone here, even her next door neighbors, keeping to herself most of the time, as did they to their own lives, but she always went out of her way to be friendly to whoever she passed.

Sun beaming down on her face when she got outside, Sadie smiled, and headed down the street with an energetic spring in her step, passing strangers on the street every so often. One individual returned her smile, another stared past it, another didn't even see it.

As she came up on the market, she began to look through the glass window at the display of produce inside, and saw a week-long sale on kiwis. They looked not quite ripe yet, she thought to herself, she would wait a few more days and then buy some.

Distracted with the window display, she didn't pay attention and see a man just exiting the market, grocery bags in his hands. Just as she turned her head, they were inches apart. She gasped, and they collided.

A box of soup mix fell out of his bag, as well as an orange, which rolled off the street, and onto the sewage drain grate and fell through, a small splash following seconds later.

The man glared at Sadie momentarily, and she was too embarrassed to speak, giving an apologetic look as she scurried past him, into the market. He picked up his fallen groceries, and glancing back at the market, stepped into the street, not heeding that the light had since turned red.

Sadie had seen the man walk into the road just as she grabbed a carton of milk, and putting it on the counter to purchase, looked out the window. She hoped he realized there was a car coming straight his way.

He didn't.

And by the time he realized it, it was too late, as a horn blared, tires screeched, and in less than five seconds, he was as good as dead.

* * *

Sadie had stood on the street with a crowd of other shocked and curious spectators, her plastic grocery bag in her hand, and her eyes gazing at the carnage.

Two burst boxes of soup mix, a broken box of crackers, a carton of apple juice that had miraculously not broken, but was dented all over, and oranges scattered everywhere. Broken glasses a few feet away from the car, a dent in the front of it where it had hit the man, the car owner speaking with a police officer. No charges would be filed, there was no way they could have avoided the man.

The man who was covered under a white sheet, masking any visibility of blood or bone, his skull having cracked on impact on the sidewalk.

An ambulance drove by, and with efficiency, loaded the corpse up on a gurney, and rolled it into the back again, shutting the doors. And as soon as it had started, it was all over, the response vehicles driving away.

Sadie watched the ambulance roll down the street.

"Poor guy," the market owner had muttered before returning inside.

Sadie continued to watch.

In all of her life, she had never witnessed the death of a stranger. She had been there to see her parents take their final breaths, and that was an entirely different experience. She'd known her parents, she'd known about their lives, and for both of them, was fully aware of their dying state, nothing unexpected. But for a stranger, one she had just bumped into, to die unexpectedly in front of her, she almost felt obligated to think about him as she did her parents.

She almost wanted to know about his life, where he grew up, what did he do as a child, where did he go to school, what was his job. Maybe he had a spouse. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was celebrating an anniversary today, maybe not. Maybe he had children, or maybe he was childless. Maybe he was already dying, and the car hitting him sped up the process. Or maybe he was a perfectly healthy man whose fate was to die today.

 _Maybe,_  Sadie thought,  _I had something to do with it? I bumped into him after all, and made him miss the walk signal._

And then Sadie suddenly felt vulnerable. She always thought these sorts of things would only happen to random people, but she didn't ever think that said random people would be in her line of sight, or would have just before interacted with her.

Not wanting to suddenly be another random casualty, she blindly rushed home, racing up the steps of the stairwell, and fumbled violently with her keys, jamming them in the locks, and yanked her door open before getting inside, slamming it shut, and locking the door tightly. As she caught her breath, she could feel her heart racing, and shed off her coat, shakily walking over to her kitchen table, putting the milk carton on the counter, and slumped in her chair. The sun was in her face, so she closed the blinds, and rest her head in her hands, letting out a deep sigh.

She didn't feel hungry anymore.

The silence of her apartment was of little comfort. The ambient noises of the radiator and the clock ticking just made her feel even more alone. So much for a lovely morning.

After fifteen minutes of sitting there in complete silence, she still didn't feel much better.

That was when she heard the loud bang from the floor below, made the snap decision to investigate, and wondered just how on earth this day could possibly get even more stressful.

* * *

"IT WORKS!", a loud voice cheered in delight from apartment 7G, and excitable laughter followed, even with black smoke slowly billowing under the door.

Concerned, Sadie knocked on the door, watching the smoke, hoping whoever was inside was aware of it. When the door swung open, more smoke followed, getting in her face and making her choke.

While she wheezed, the apartment owner was shooing the smoke out of the way so he could see who knocked, "Yes yes, hello?", he frowned, squinting, and as soon as the smoke cleared, he saw Sadie, and grinned, "Hey! I've seen you around here! You live up above, right?"

"Er...right," she nodded as soon as she caught her breath, nose wrinkling from the burning smoke smell, and looked at him, "Er, is everything all right in there?"

"It's fine!", he assured, his blonde, oil spattered curls bouncing as he nodded, and he fixed his dirty glasses back onto his face, "Just fixing some things, that's all," he smiled, and wiped his forehead off with a leather glove he was wearing.

Sadie peered in, seeing the apartment was absolutely littered with machine parts, tools, and other things of that nature, looking like a mechanic shop instead of a living area, "So uh...are you making something in there?"

"Fixing," he repeated, "I fix machinery, it's my job," he explained, and grabbed a crutch he had leaning against the door, and Sadie then noticed the cast on his left foot.

He hobbled back inside, inviting her in, "Normally, I'm working at the shop three blocks away, but thanks to a slip on a puddle of oil, I'm stuck here for the next several weeks. I apologize in advance for any disturbances...my work gets a little...noisy sometimes," he admitted.

"Oh, that's fine," Sadie laughed awkwardly, "I'm just glad there's not any danger or anything!", and offered out a hand, "I'm Sadie Miller by the way."

"Ronaldo Fryman," he smiled, shaking her hand with his clean one, and picked up a wrench again, hobbling over to a very old looking piece of machinery on a table in the middle of the room, "This is an old steam engine I'm trying to fix for the industrial museum. I've been cleaning the gunk out of it all morning. It's being a bit stubborn, spewing smoke and spraying oil everywhere, but I think I've almost got it...", he squinted as he adjusted more nuts and bolts on the engine, picking at intricate little parts inside it. Closing the hatch, he looked to Sadie, "Could you do me a favor? Go down to 6G, tell the guy there I need some boiling water? He owns the tea shop next to the complex, so he always has boiling water on hand."

Sadie awkwardly shuffled her feet, and laughed, "O-Oh! Uh...sure!", she smiled and headed out of the apartment. It felt a little strange doing this complete stranger a favor, but it wasn't like she had anything better to do. Besides, that almost distracted her from the chaos that had happened earlier.

* * *

Just as Sadie got down the stairs, she could see someone at the door of 6G, fumbling with keys, and locking the door, a wooden tureen by their feet. Sadie quickly walked over, "Hey! Are you the tea shop owner?"

The person, a thin red-haired man with piercings looked up with a confused frown, "Uh, yeah? If you want something, talk to the girl covering for me, I'm on break-"

"Oh, it's not that," Sadie assured, "The man in 7G, Mr. Fryman, he sent me to ask you for some boiling water."

The man drew in an irritable breath and rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath, and sighed, "Guess I gotta do  _everything_  for him around here-"

"Oh!", Sadie yelped, wondering if she had bothered him, "If you can't do it, that's OK, I can just-"

"No," he cut her off," I'll get it for him, just hang on there a coupla minutes. I was going up to his place anyway," he muttered, and walked back into his apartment, door shut behind him.

Sadie could hear him mumbling and muttering from behind the door, and averted her gaze to the tureen on the ground, and curiously peeked in. Inside was a little container of fresh pancakes that looked perfect; fat and fluffy, a steamed egg in a pot with green onion on top, two clementine oranges, and a small black teapot with steam billowing out of it. And Sadie suddenly felt a little bit envious, thinking for a split second that it would be a nice substitute for her normal cereal breakfast.

The man soon came back out with a larger black teapot, holding it by its handle, and picked up the tureen in his other hand, huffing, "Aight, hope that's enough for the  _disaster warning_ ," and headed down the hall.

Sadie awkwardly followed behind him, just to make sure he didn't drop anything, and watched him carefully from behind. As she looked him over, she then took notice of the very faint discolored skin on his lower right cheek that went all the way down to his jaw and neck, and then saw the same discoloration on one of his hands, and Sadie, having been a candy striper at the hospital in high school, was able to realize quickly it was scar tissue, and that they were burn marks, albeit very faded. Working around boiling water every day must have had its risks, she supposed.

When they got up to 7G, Ronaldo had the door propped open, and looked up from the steam engine with a smile, "You're back!", he cheered to Sadie.

"Yeah," she laughed awkwardly, "I just wanted to make sure he was able to carry both things at once-"

"Of course I can," the tea shop owner cut her off with a grumpy look, and plopped the tureen on the floor next to Ronaldo's stool, "Brought you breakfast," he mumbled.

"Aww, you're just spoiling me, aren't you, Lars?", Ronaldo teased.

The man, Lars, rolled his eyes, "Yeah, well I'm on early lunch break, and I'm gonna end up working for another straight five hours, so you better be happy I got this together."

"And indeed I am," Ronaldo nodded, plucking a pancake out of the tureen with one of his hands, and put it in his mouth, "Very."

Sadie watched as Lars then sat on a couch adjacent to Ronaldo's seat, and grabbed one of the oranges, peeling it, and popping a bit in his mouth.

"Morning rush go OK?", Ronaldo asked the cook.

"Wasn't even a rush," Lars huffed, still chewing his orange, "Everything's been super slow for the last two hours. Guess the roads got blocked off for a traffic accident or somethin'."

Sadie's stomach dropped, and she shuffled her feet awkwardly, "Y-yeah, some guy got hit by a car outside the market and died."

Lars glanced over to her, flicking a few little pieces of orange peel off the fruit, "How'd you know that?"

"Well...uh...", she began, "I saw it happen."

"...oof," Ronaldo winced, "You alright?"

"Well, yeah, why wouldn't I be?", she frowned, chewing the inside of her mouth, then paused, and sighed, "I really don't know. I honestly feel...kind of freaked. I actually bumped into him before I went in the market, and I saw him in the crosswalk during the red light. And uh...everything after that..."

Lars stopped chewing his orange, glancing at her, "I've seen people die too. When I was a kid, my neighbor fell off a roof, and split his head open. Kept me awake for days."

"Lars that's not going to help her," Ronaldo frowned.

"Look, I don't need help," Sadie sighed, "I just...I feel bad? I didn't even know the person, and I can't help but feel like if I hadn't bumped into him, or even just turned my head to look at him, then maybe it wouldn't have happened? Or at least I never would have known about it?"

"Shit, tell us a life story, why don't ya-", Lars muttered, tossing his orange peel.

"Lars," Ronaldo scolded.

"Whaaat?", he frowned, "I'm just not sure why this stranger lady is gettin' all deep on us-"

"She is not a stranger," Ronaldo sniffed, "She is a guest, and as such, in my abode, you will be welcoming."

Lars rolled his eyes, and stole a pancake, stuffing it in his mouth.

Ronaldo stood up, and opened up an old broken fuse box that had been dissected, "Do you see all these wires and circuits?"

"Yeah?", Sadie looked in.

Trailing his finger along one of the wires, Ronaldo began, "This one connects to every other wire in a building. And those wires all connect to the powerlines, which in turn connect to a power station, which connects to more stations, and then to power plants, and so on. "

He pointed out his window, "The powerlines for this building are connected to the apartment complex across the street. It's powering other people's TVs, their lights, their livelihood. It keeps my lights on, Lars' kitchen running, and theoretically all the devices in your apartment too."

"Oh jeez, not this lecture again," Lars groaned.

"Shut up," Ronaldo pointed at him, before turning his attention back to Sadie, "We don't know about the lives of other people, but we're aware they exist. It sometimes takes an accident to bring people to a common experience, like a power outage. Or in your case, a car accident. We have come to the awareness that random people will come in and out of our lives, as we will for them. Everyone's a random person to someone. Up until today, you were probably just a random person to us."

"I didn't even know you two existed," Sadie admitted.

"Rude," Lars scoffed.

"No no, I meant-"

"It's OK, Lars is a sourpuss," Ronaldo smiled smugly at Lars, who gave a scowl.

Ronaldo then continued, "Life can be quite unexpected, which is why I like to go by the creed of living every day with the knowledge that it could be my last-"

"Chee, Ron!", Lars snorted, "Don't tell her that!"

"But it's not supposed to be a bad thing! I mean, I've been living this way for years, and I'm still here!", Ronaldo grinned to her, "And you're still here!", and then he pointed to Lars, who was stealing more breakfast, "And he's still here!"

"And he's eating your breakfast," Sadie snickered.

"Tattler," Lars made a face, putting the third stolen pancake back down.

Sadie sighed, "Thanks for that. I still feel really weird about it all, but-"

"Sometimes, it just takes time to feel adjusted to it," Ronaldo shrugged, "Lars was in a subway accident two years ago, and I panicked thinking that I wasn't going to see him again."

"I was fine," Lars cut in.

"Yes, but I think I'd realized that the subway does indeed still run even when I'm not there to witness it. Much like that old question, 'If a tree falls down in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, does it make a sound?' I think I realized that because it was still running when I wasn't there, I was just as capable of being in an accident as Lars, who was there on chance."

"You're rambling again," Lars muttered, "Come eat your breakfast before I finish it all for you."

"You should have just made your own too," Ronaldo teased, sitting back down, and grabbing the steamed egg bowl, and looked up at Sadie, "Do you feel better?"

"I do," she sighed, nodding, "Thanks Ronaldo."

"Anytime," he assured, and took a spoonful of egg, teasing Lars by shoving it at his lips gently, "Open wide, Mr. Birdy."

Lars responded by reaching a hand out and flicking Ronaldo's nose, the mechanic giving a yelp.

"So are you two friends?", Sadie shrugged, "Or do you work for each other?"

"Nah, he's just a guy who pays me to feed him," Lars snorted, and Ronaldo responded by punching his arm gently.

"We're friends," Ronaldo corrected, and Sadie thought he looked tempted to say something more, but an uncomfortable face made by Lars seemed to make him change his mind, and he took another bite of egg, "Thank you for breakfast," he thanked Lars, who was pouring himself a cup of tea.

Lars responded with a snort, showing disinterest.

"Speaking of breakfast, I should go get mine and-" Sadie paused then cursed under her breath, "I left my milk on the counter, it's probably all spoiled by now-"

Lars reached into his tureen, pulling a glass bottle of milk out from under a towel, offering it out to her without a word.

"Uh...", Sadie looked at him, then the bottle, then took it in her hands, finding it was ice cold. She was amazed it wasn't warm from all the hot food in the tureen.

"I had it under an ice pack," Lars muttered, "It's fresh and stuff."

"Oh...wow," Sadie laughed awkwardly, "Thanks!"

"Yeah, just buy tea or something from me later. That shit costs 6 dollars a bottle."

"I will!", she laughed, "Now that I know you run that shop, I'll have to visit it!", and headed for the door, waving goodbye to the two men, thanking them both again for their (or at least Ronaldo's) hospitality.

* * *

Lars watched her leave, and waited for the footsteps to disappear down the hallway, and glanced to Ronaldo, "So...new friend of yours?"

Ronaldo shrugged, "She lives on the floor above. She heard me working, and came down to investigate all the noise."

"Mm," Lars mumbled, and was taking another swallow of tea, "Shame she had to witness an accident and stuff like that, y'know?"

"Yeah," the mechanic sighed, "I'm sure she's going to be fine though. Life goes on, and such."

"Right, right," Lars responded under his breath, and began to pack empty dishes back in the tureen.

"...so what was that phone call about last night from your sister?", Ronaldo then asked.

"...It was about my father," Lars answered blankly, "He's dead."

"...Oh," Ronaldo paused, looking at the wrench he'd placed in his lap, then at the other man, "Are you ok?"

"I'm great," he mumbled, "Perfect."

"...Are you sure?"

"What do you think?", Lars glared at his hands.

"I know things were pretty bad," Ronaldo sighed, getting off his stool, and sitting on the couch cushion next to Lars.

Lars frowned at him, "What? Why are you sitting next to me?"

Ronaldo sighed, "Lars please...don't act like this."

"Like what?"

"Like you hate me-"

"I don't act like that-", he cut in irritably.

"You do too," Ronaldo looked hurt.

Pausing, Lars let out a hiss through his teeth, and his posture relaxed, "I'm glad he's dead," he admitted, "But I don't feel like anything's gotten better. I still feel like shit about my childhood, and-" he held up his burned arm, and touched the scar tissue along his face, "These things still haven't gone away. Y'know, I always thought that when he was gone, and gone for good, they'd like...disappear or something. They're still here, ugly and gross as ever."

"...They're not as noticeable as when we were younger-"

"I still see them every morning," Lars glared at his own hands again, "Y'know, sometimes people ask where I got 'em, and I just say it's from the tea shop, because if you tell 'em your dad pinned you to a hot stove when you were twelve, they already fuckin' know you're a basket case."

"You're not a basket case," Ronaldo assured.

"Then how come I keep screwing my life up?", Lars whipped his head up to look him in the eye, "My business is barely making rent, I can't afford a therapist anymore, and I can't even talk straight with  _you_  of all people anymore."

"I know you're trying-"

"Trying isn't enough, Ron", Lars hissed through his teeth again, running a hand through his hair, "I can't commit just with trying to pull my life together. I have to have it pulled together before I can-..." he trailed off.

"...Do you still have the ring I gave you?", Ronaldo asked.

"...Yeah. In the drawer by my bed," Lars mumbled, "I was tired of looking at it on my nightstand every time I went to sleep and woke up."

"...you know it's not too late to get married right? I mean, now that your dad is dead...maybe you can try and move on to the next part of your life."

"That's the problem!", Lars groaned, "I can't! It doesn't matter if he's dead now, I haven't seen him in seven years anyway, and I don't feel any different than if he were still alive..."

"Maybe it will feel better after time passes?", Ronaldo suggested.

"I didn't feel better when I moved away from him, and I don't feel better now."

Ronaldo's heart sank a little, his throat drawing tight, "...I still love y-"

"Ron," Lars whimpered, "Stop. I know. But I don't want to-"

"You don't want to hurt me. I know," Ronaldo sighed, "But you're not."

"I  _did_  though," Lars looked at him in the eye, "I messed up, I hurt you, and if that says anything, I'm probably gonna end up like my old man, since I can't afford anything to help me get away from that, no medicines, no doctors, no nothin'-" he began to list, and his voice died as he stared at his lap.

"I forgave you," Ronaldo reminded him.

"I still...I just-", Lars whimpered, "You deserve better than me."

Ronaldo sighed, "Still, we could just-"

"No," Lars insisted, "Not now. I broke off the engagement because you deserve better than what I was, and you deserve better than what I am now."

"...I miss you," Ronaldo admitted.

"I miss you too," Lars mumbled, "I just...I don't wanna ruin whatever else we have left together..."

"You were my best friend," Ronaldo spoke softly, staring at the steam engine.

"I know," Lars whispered, and a hand tangled in his hair in frustration.

"You made me so happy, I just wanted to help you however I could, and-"

"Can we stop talking about it please?", Lars set the tureen down on the floor, and rubbed the heels of his hands in his eyes, trying to hold back his strong emotions.

"Lars," Ronaldo began, but stopped, unsure what he could say now. Their problems were beyond the advice Ronaldo could give to someone like Sadie.

"I'm sorry. _I'm sorry_..." Lars mumbled, "I wish I could move on, and let you marry me, and we could do all the dumb shit we did together again, like movie nights, and music, and cooking things, and sitting on you, and calling you stupid names," he began to trail off, and his eyes watered, "I can't afford to ruin what we have left, and-"

He was cut off by a sudden kiss on the lips, and warm hands covering both his cheeks. He gave a small, choked noise, and without thinking, returned the kiss, a hand slowly reaching up for Ronaldo's curly blonde hair. Just as his fingers touched the curls, he pulled back from the kiss, staring his former lover in the eyes.

Ronaldo gave an apologetic look, and scooted away from him, knowing he overstepped their boundaries, reading the painful longing on Lars' face.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

"I'm not going to get rid of the ring. I promise," Lars mumbled.

Ronaldo gave a weak smile, "OK. That's good to know."

"...you're way too patient with my fucked up ass."

"You're worth being patient for, I think," Ronaldo gave another smile. They weren't going to get married for long time, maybe not ever. But he had no plans to give up on Lars any time soon. He knew he could get better.

"...I've gotta get back on my shift. I'll bring you by lunch later," Lars promised as he picked up the tureen again.

"Alright,", Ronaldo sighed, going back to his stool. Before he sat down, he looked over, "Hey. Lars."

"Yeah?", the other looked over from the door.

"Have a good day, OK?"

"...yeah," Lars sighed, "You too," and gave a weak smile as he waved, and left Ronaldo's apartment.

When he returned to the shop, it was empty, and Lars could tell it wasn't going to get much busier during the day. He decided the silence was growing boring, and turned on the record player he'd set up in the corner of the shop, picking some music for ambiance.

It took him a minute to recognize the tune of the forlorn sounding music he'd picked on random. It had been a record he and Ronaldo probably listened to when they were younger, and listen to it together in the evenings. Sometimes they would dance. And Lars would always smile, even just for a little.

_Where are you, prairie blue?_

_Where's the home I once knew?_

_Clouds on high, rolling by, prairie blue_

_Where the sweet grasses lie_

_Neath the wide open sky_

_I can see endlessly, prairie blue_

_Why did I ever stray?_

_So very far away?_

_I'll be coming back someday_

_Where are you, prairie blue?_

_Are you missing me too?_

_I'm at ease, on the breeze,_ _prairie, prairie blue_

* * *

As Sadie poured the fresh milk into her cereal and made a mental note to buy tea later from Lars' shop out of gratitude. He'd been quite sour, but she remembered Ronaldo's affection towards him, and wondered if there was something more to the two than what she gathered.

Hopefully, with how well she got along with Ronaldo, she would have more opportunities to see the two in the future.

As she chewed her cereal, she looked at the blinds of her window, the glow of the outdoor sun coming through the fabric.

Without any thought of it, she got up and pulled up the blinds.

The day was beginning to be beautiful again.


End file.
